What I’d Tell Creators If I Wasn’t Afraid of Hurting Their Feelings
Hard-earned lessons from someone who went all in on the internet and paid for it.
This post is part of my book launch series where each week leading up to my pub date (one week out!! August 12th!!) we dive into a topic from the book.
My memoir comes out one week from today. Simon & Schuster is the publisher. Sean Manning edited it; the man behind some of my favorite memoirs including Down the Drain, I’m Glad My Mom Died, and Men Have Called Her Crazy.
It’s the first memoir to expose the unseen reality of influencer culture. And btw…I narrated the audio version for all you audiobook lovers.
Today, I’m sharing some advice for other creators—straight from someone who shined bright, burnt out, and lived to tell the tale (prepare to go “oof”).
Being a creator is a lot of people’s dream career, and I’m not here to squash that. I’m just here to share my experience so that you can learn from my pain.
What I’d Tell Online Creators If I Wasn’t Afraid of Hurting Their Feelings
1. You are not dating your followers.
While going through the process of writing my memoir, I realized how much I prioritized the opinions, beliefs, and comments of random strangers. I’ve since recovered from that, but I think a lot of creators are still stuck in the comment section. Yes, your followers, readers, and subscribers are your community. Some may even be paying customers. But they should never come before the people who actually know you: your family, your partner, your friends. Those are the only people who should get to weigh in on how you’re doing.
Early in my career, I prioritized my audience over everyone else (parasocialism runs both ways). And for a while, it worked. But it’s not sustainable. It will drain you. It will isolate you. Your audience can change their mind about you overnight. Some are quietly rooting for your downfall. If you’re thinking about your online community all the time and would die for them, I’d suggest it might be time to start listening to the people who know you IRL. Think of it as an investment in the future of your career.
2. If you don’t want to take a break, prepare to pay in other areas.
I know so many creators eye-roll when they hear “take breaks!” But… the algorithm! But… consistency! But… my followers expect me to post! These are all very real things! But trust me when I tell you this: you need to take a good, hard look at your life and realize, if you never come up for air, something’s gotta give. If you never take breaks and have a family, you will get less time with your kids. If you never take breaks, your relationship will not be robust. If you never take breaks, your health will suffer.
A lot of men and women decide that their career is going to be their everything. But don’t believe the sexy articles that tell you you can have it all. You can’t.
You just get to choose whether or not it’s worth it in the end.
3. Constantly check in with your boundaries and make sure you’re not oversharing.
Here’s an example of this boundary check in real time. Last month I got engaged and I shared about it here. At the end of the essay, I wrote that I’d soon share how he asked me. I got an influx of subscribers and made it to #1 on the Rising in Culture list on Substack. Sexy stuff! The essay is written and in the drafts, but for now, I’m holding off on hitting post. I want to live in it a little longer before handing it over to the internet. Because once it’s out there, it stops being just mine. Pulling back can cost you but sometimes, it’s worth it.
4. Vulnerability as a content strategy can be a trap; what healed you once can keep you sick.
Vulnerability is a fast way to grab the attention of an audience, but it’s a cheap one, too. Vulnerability porn can become addictive—and worse, it can turn into a tired part of your content strategy, where you’re stuck cycling through posts about infertility or breakups, mixed in with lighter ones about sunsets and raw cacao (speaking from experience). If you build an audience based on your hardship, one day when you’re ready to move on, your audience won’t exactly want you to.
An example of vulnerability:
5. If you do disappear or take a break, you will be replaced. But that’s not necessarily a bad thing.
The world moves on without your daily posts. It has to. You’ll be replaced by 3 to 5 people who have the energy and drive you once had. Because while you were grinding, they were resting. That’s just the cycle.
But when you come back, you won’t just be rested. You’ll come back with a whole new set of eyes and a renewed perspective (and the ability to change course, if that’s what you so choose!)
6. Being paid to be yourself sounds great until you no longer know who that self is.
I remember walking around in 2017 and thinking, “How cool is it that it’s my job to be myself?” but by 2018, it was more, “Holy shit, I have no idea who I am without Instagram. I want to find out who I am without this app.”
When the lines between your personal life and income blur, it can feel exhilarating. But eventually, every moment becomes content, every thought becomes strategy, and every version of you is up for approval. You start performing life (and yes, authenticity) instead of living it. And by the time you realize it, you’re so far from yourself you don’t even know what you like, think, or want anymore.
7. Just because you’re known for being relatable doesn’t mean everyone needs to relate to you.
When Emma Chamberlain started hosting the Met Gala, I saw people complain in her YouTube comments that they missed the “relatable Emma.” Cue the impossible-to-win push and pull: your audience wants you to grow, but not too much. Evolve, but stay the same. Be aspirational, but never out of reach.
At some point, you must choose whether you’re building a life that feels good to you or one that just makes others feel comfortable.
8. And on that note, you owe people nothing.
Not closure, not context, not the last word—especially if they’ve already decided who you are. The internet calls it accountability, but it’s often just control. Sometimes the most powerful move is silence. Let them talk.
More on If You Don’t Like This, I Will Die:
TOUR: I’m going on tour with stops in LA, CT, and NY. Head here to get info and snag RSVP’s.
WATCH: I started a series on Tiktok called Unhinged Things I Did As a Wellness Influencer. Follow along!
BOOK TOUR DATES + DETAILS
It is with great excitement and jubilance that I announce my dates, deets and stops for the If You Don’t Like This, I Will Die book tour!!!!
I’m so looking forward to your book. The way social media has permeated our lives, I feel like much of this advice is relatable to anyone who is on these platforms. I was certainly not an influencer or trying to make a career out of content, but did I prioritize online followers over people IRL? For sure I did. And then in moments, where I wanted to be in the moment, did I also feel the pressure to document and share it, absolutely. Now that I’ve mostly left many of the platforms, it still feels engrained within me that if I’m not capturing and sharing, things didn’t happen or won’t count. In trying to be in the moment, I now take no pictures of what counts. We had a girls weekend this past weekend and I barely took any pictures. On the way home we tried to find pictures from the last time we were together in that location. I have 1 of my friends’ kids on a little tractor and then 12 of a (really basic) sunset. Made me think of the post (I think it was yours) about our camera feed and what we prioritize. For sure that was something I felt post-worthy then, over the great weekend with my girlfriends and capturing any of us though?! I don’t remember the sunset but I remember that weekend. How messed up is that?